Just a Little Bit
by pokeitlikejello
Summary: Oneshot. Quinn has a problem, it's Santana who tries to help. Background on Santana. TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of eating disorders.


**Author's Note**: Just a oneshot!

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><p>Santana stepped into the bathroom and made sure the door closed silently behind her. She crept toward the last stall, flinching slightly as she heard <em>that<em> sound. She jiggled the door, loosening the door enough to shove it open.

Quinn was leaning over the toilet and she scooted away from it as soon as she heard someone at the stall door. She wiped her mouth and looked up at Santana, surprised. A frown settled on the Latina's lips, her eyebrows drawing together.

"That's cute," she said.

"That I'm sick?" the blonde replied. "Real nice, Santana."

"No... that's the third time this week you've done that." Santana stepped away from the door and jumped up enough to sit on the counter.

Quinn shook her head. "No, it isn't."

Santana narrowed her eyes at the blonde. "Don't lie to me."

"You don't know what you're talking about." Quinn forced herself to stand and flushed the toilet.

"Oh, I do," Santana responded. "What's it this time?"

Quinn moved out of the stall and over to the sink. She began washing her hands. "What?"

"Why are you puking?" Santana asked.

"I was just coughing." She moved to grab some paper towels. "I didn't get sick."

The Latina rolled her eyes. "Come on. Quit being a bitch. Was it Coach?"

"I need to make weight," Quinn spoke softly as she crumpled the brown paper in her hands.

"You will," Santana insisted with a shrug.

"And have you seen my ass?" Quinn said as she tossed her paper towels into the trash and looked over her reflection in the mirror.

Santana stared at her. "I like your ass." Quinn shot her a look, which made Santana shrug again. "What? I do."

The blonde wasn't buying it. "Yeah, well... it's too big."

"You making yourself throw up isn't going to make your ass smaller," Santana snapped.

"You don't know that," Quinn replied with just as much attitude as she smoothed her hand over her hair.

"You could kill yourself doing that, you know," the Latina was trying to act nonchalant now. "Electrolyte imbalance and all that. Short circuit your system and you'll be found dead with your face in the toilet bowl."

Quinn frowned at Santana. "That's disgusting and morbid."

"It's what you're doing to yourself," Santana told her.

The blonde raised an eyebrow. "Since when have you become a PSA on bulimia?"

Santana shrugged again and slid off the counter. "It's your life, Quinn. You wanna kill yourself to make a great ass disappear, go ahead." She passed the blonde and let the door close loudly behind her.

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><p>Quinn was confused about her interaction with Santana after lunch. She was surprised she said anything other than "keep it up, fatso." Their thing was to rag on each other. They were always competitive and maybe Santana was concerned, but it still struck something in the blonde that made her think there was something more going on.<p>

Once Cheerios practice had let out, Quinn decided to speak to Santana. However, the Latina must have been in a hurry because Quinn had to rush to the parking lot to try and catch her, but with no such luck. She got into her own car and followed after Santana's. She knew Santana wouldn't mind if she stopped by her house to talk.

But they weren't going to Santana's house. As Quinn followed after her, she realized Santana had another destination in mind. It also seemed that she had no idea Quinn was behind her. Ten minutes later and Quinn was pulling into a spot in a nursing home parking lot.

Getting out the car, Quinn picked up her speed to follow after Santana further. She nearly lost her at the elevators, but when it stopped on the third floor before coming back down, Quinn figured that's where Santana got off.

The third floor was quiet and as Quinn stepped into the hall, she didn't see Santana. She looked around, trying to figure out where to go.

"Excuse me?" A nurse moved in front of Quinn and smiled. "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yeah." Quinn nodded and looked around again. "My friend..."

"Santana?" the nurse eyed up Quinn's Cheerios uniform.

"Yes," Quinn answered, a little unsure. She thought it was weird they knew Santana.

"Room 312."

"Thank you."

Quinn smiled at the nurse and then followed the signs that took her to the correct hallway. She passed by the rooms, noticing that there didn't seem to be many people visiting. That was sad. She stopped at room 312.

The door was open and Santana was sitting beside the bed in the room. Quinn was surprised to see the woman in bed was quite young, not like most of the other residents. A different nurse scooted past Quinn and entered to the room.

"Hello, Santana," she said. "Nice to see you again."

"Hi." Santana looked over at the nurse. "Yeah, you too. How is she doing?"

"She's doing well," the nurse replied. "Hasn't had any bed sores, no problems at all."

"That's good to hear." Santana was stroking the back of the woman's hand.

The nurse made a few notes on a chart. "Did you just come for a quick hello?"

"I dunno." Santana shrugged. "I might stay a while."

"Does your friend want a chair?"

Santana turned in her seat and Quinn had no other option but to remain standing there. She couldn't hide when she was called out like that. The Latina's mouth dropped and she stood quickly, crossing the room and lowering her voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" She grabbed Quinn's arm.

"Is everything okay?" the nurse asked.

"Yeah." Santana answered then turned back to Quinn. "Go away. Get the fuck out of here and forget you ever saw this place."

"Santana—"

"Go," she hissed. "I'm dead serious, Quinn. I'll beat the shit out of you."

"Okay," Quinn agreed quickly. "Let go."

Santana hadn't realized she had been squeezing Quinn's arm. She released her and stepped away. The blonde turned and hurried down the hallway, not looking back.

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><p>The next morning at practice, Quinn tried to make eye contact with Santana, but it wasn't happening. It wasn't until they were at their gym lockers that Santana came near her. She had waited until the locker room was empty.<p>

"We need to talk," Santana said, her voice low, meaning business.

The blonde nodded. "Who was that?"

"Didn't I tell you to forget about it?" Santana asked sharply.

"Yeah, but—"

"Shut up." Santana sat down on the bench and looked at the floor. She let out a slow breath. "She's my mom."

Quinn watched her. "I thought your mom was dead."

"She might as well be," Santana replied.

"What happened to her?" Quinn sat down beside her.

"My mom is beautiful," Santana spoke softly. "But she didn't think so. She used to make herself throw up. One day, she collapsed. I was six. By the time the paramedics got there... there wasn't much they could do." She blinked away her tears. "So... now it's like she's dead. She doesn't respond, she can't talk, she... I don't even think she knows I'm there."

"I'm sorry, Santana," Quinn responded gently and placed her hand on Santana's back.

"That's why you have to stop." The Latina looked up at Quinn. "You're an idiot if you keep doing it. So please stop, Quinn. And if you can't stop, get help. I don't want you going where my mom is. Or worse, underground."

"I promise, I'll stop," Quinn told her. "Or get help. It's not that bad. I can stop doing it. I... I was just trying to... It was stupid." She frowned. "God, I'm so sorry, Santana."

"It's whatever." She shrugged Quinn's hand off and stood back up. "I gotta go to class." And with that, she was out of the locker room.

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><p>"Hi," Quinn greeted the nurse as she came off the elevators.<p>

"Hi," the nurse responded. "I remember you."

"I brought these for Santana's mom." Quinn held up the vase of flowers in her hands.

"You want to take them there yourself?" the nurse asked. "You know where the room is."

"Sure," Quinn agreed. "Thanks."

Quinn walked slowly down the hallway and to room 312. She entered the room and approached the bed, feeling her heart beat faster. She studied the woman lying there for a moment. She looked just like Santana.

Drawing in a breath, the blonde set the flowers on the night stand. It was stupid to bring them, she realized, since Santana's mom wasn't going to see them. Quinn reached down and placed her hand on the warm one resting on the bed.

"Thank you," she whispered softly. She straightened her spine, gave the hand a small squeeze, and then left the room.


End file.
